Hein arrived to his house to see
if his family was all right. The
sprinklers were running on his front lawn.
Jesus please… was the only thing going on in his mind. Not even bothering to dodge the cold spray,
he burst through the front door—"Jamie…JAMIE!!
ALYSSA…ALYSSA WHERE ARE YOU?!" he screamed.
He ran into the living room to
find the limp bodies of his wife and child sprawled across the couch. The house AV units were blinking and
broadcasting the general alert warning. "Oh Jesus…" he pleaded as he stumbled
and almost fell over.
Lieutenant Rhoecus jogged into the house and saw
Hein cradling little Alyssa. He stopped
and lowered his eyes. He couldn't even
begin to imagine the amount of grief going on inside Hein's head. An explosion in the distance rocked the
house. People were screaming, shouting
and sobbing outside. Agony was the only
thing that existed now.
"Colonel…"
"NO! I won't abandon my wife and baby!"
"Colonel there's no time—they're
already gone—there's nothing we can do for them."
Hein stood up and took one last
look at the lifeless bodies of his beloved.
"I'm sorry…I'm so sorry."
He fell to his knees and began to weep.
"If I am to die, then today will be that day."
"Dammit" Rhoecus muttered. He reached down and pulled Hein up by the
back of his collar, practically choking him in the process. "I know it hurts—hell its outright brutal,
but you're coming with me. No
questions."
Hein couldn't even see straight as
the mad lieutenant pulled him out of his house. The omnitrike was still waiting for them outside. The thunderous roar of the jet engines from
the GTC-88s boomed above his heard.
Large plumes of thick black smoke rose from several locations. San Francisco was burning. Phantoms were circulating the skies and
populating the streets. Through his
blurred vision he saw an ethereal serpent catch up and pass through one of the
evac craft. Its pilot neutralized, the
craft lost attitude and began its return to the Earth from which it came.
But Hein didn't care—everything that
mattered to him was now lost. He began
to sob again as Rhoecus floored the gas and shot down the street.
***
The omnitrike cleared the outer
gateways of the barrier city and dashed towards the intersection. Rhoecus pulled a hard right and made the vehicle
veer towards the direction he commanded.
Holographic display grids kept him constantly aware of his position
relative to the obstacles that lay ahead.
Unfortunately the software programmers had neglected to add in any
routines for finding Phantoms not yet visible.
Rhoecus' scream shook Hein back to
reality as he watched his driver suddenly lose all motor control. Hein lunged
for the steering wheel as warning icons began to flash red all over the
cabin. As the omnitrike began to loose
control, a tentacle lashed out and punctured the passenger side, aiming
directly for Hein. The searing pain in
his right leg almost caused Hein to black out.
He roared and twisted his body in a feeble attempt to free himself from
the vice of the damned. Hein grabbed for anything that would give him a grip
and pulled hard to keep him together as the tentacle tried to coil. The steering wheel rotated to its maximum
position as the omnitrike began to skitter into around in a large "U" before it
came to a rest. It worked—the Phantom
let go. Hein watched as the fleeting
tentacle fluoresced its brilliant orange as it twitch wildly searching for its
escaped prey.
Hein didn't want to figure out
what happened if it found him again. He
opened the driver's side door and kicked the lieutenant's lifeless body out
onto the pavement below. It landed with a sickening crunch. Hein pulled himself
back into position and commanded the control computer to accelerate. Data feeds alerted him that the car had
taken damage and no longer function at optimum specifications. "Ya think?" he cried.
GPS trackers told him that he was
less than two miles from the USMF installation Braddox. Hein patched in a secure channel to the
BaseOps Commander and shouted, "This is Colonel Douglas Hein of USMF San
Francisco. You bastards better have a damn
good reason why I don't see you out here securing the base."
The colonel's transmission was
only met by a few seconds of static before a hazy image of a Deep Eyes soldier
materialized out of the holo emitters.
"Colonel, this is Sergeant Avon Tyrell.
This base is under siege and you are ordered not to enter this
base. Failure to comply with that order will be result on your vehicle being
fired upon."
"What the—" Tyrell closed the channel.
Auto turrets around the base began
to emerge out of their carbosteel housings, their chrome guns primed and fully
charged. Fusion generators went to
redline status as they were instructed to pump gigawatts of energy into the defense
grid. The heavy lasers began their torment
as they set fire to the sky.
The deep rumble of a mega-Phantom
was deafening. Hein lurched the vehicle
to dodge the massive creature that stalked the base. He was only hundreds of feet from beast when it started to break
up. Alien screams shook the insides of
his skull.
"Goddamn it" Hein said to himself
as appendages and chunks of the beast began to disintegrate and fall from the
sky. Each was still very capable of
removing him from his corporeal existence.
He ran hard and fast. Things
were splattering around him. Hein
didn't want to know what they were… He pulled out his communiqué and radioed
the base a second time. Hein was
furious with the sergeant. "Hey I'm
still out here you know!" Hein's answer
was met with a laser bolt from an auto turret.
His car exploded sending white-hot shrapnel scything through the air.
Hein screamed as a shard dug its
way through his left arm. He instantly
fell and rolled into an embankment.
Fighting back tears as pain riveted through his arm and abdomen, he once
more opened a channel, but this time beaconed for general distress. Hein was starting to get tunnel vision. Blackness was starting to engulf him…oh so
sweet darkness. The pain disappeared.
Corporal Tatianov detected the
beacon from ten miles out. She was on
patrol duty to recon any information concerning large Phantom movement back to
Braddox. She opened a channel back to
base and said, "I'm getting a general distress beacon, and I'm going in to
investigate."
Tyrell's voice materialized in her
ear. "Do not leave you assigned
position Corporal. That's an order."
"What?" Tatianov replied.
"I repeat, do not leave your
assigned position. You are needed where
you are."
"But—"
"No 'buts', stay where you are."
Something was definitely wrong if
BaseOps wouldn't let her respond to a general distress beacon. Tatianov pulled up the rear lenses on the
GTC-88 to focus back towards the base.
High-resolution optics showed her the fury of the battle that was taking
place. Lasers sliced their way across
the sky chasing serpents and other strange creatures that could only have come
from Hell itself.
She shivered. The general distress beacon was still
repeating its silent pulse. She ordered
the navigational computer to triangulate the position of the signal and then
focus the optics onto the spot. The
computer did as it as told and brought her the image. She saw a scruffy man with jet-black hair lying in a ditch. One of his arms was bleeding badly. He wasn't moving.
Tatianov began to bring the craft
around, when she was met with Sergeant Tyrell's voice again. "What are you doing corporal? I thought I told you to stay where you are."
"There's a man down there and I'm going to get him."
"You're orders have not changed
the last time I checked."
"Screw you!" Tatianov retorted as
she began to accelerate towards the signal.
Hein still lay in his ditch as the
large aircraft descended from the sky.
Tatianov opened the flight-release hatch and jumped out. She ran across the dirt, making crunching
noises with each footstep. When she
arrived at Hein's side, she activated her medical scanner to assess what his
condition was. He wasn't in good
shape—half the vital icons where flashing red.
He had lost a lot of blood.
The device instructed her that she
needed to apply a synthflesh patch around the wound if he intended to keep his
arm. She used a knife to slice off his
jacket sleeve and wretched when she saw what had happened. Her basic medical training had never
prepared her for that kind of sight.
Taking slow deep breaths, she slowly removed the patch's seals and
gently rested it on his wound. It immediately burst hundreds of fibers out of
the edges and began to weave itself into Hein's skin. This would at least stop the bleeding, but whatever was in his
arm would have to be removed at a later time.
She injected a stimulant into his
neck to help rouse him. They needed to
go, lest they attract any attention.
Hein began his slow ascent to consciousness. The first thing he did was scream.
"Shhhh, it's alright. I'm here, you'll be safe." Tatianov hoped it worked, because she didn't
want to transport a bleeding lunatic back to base. She would already be in enough trouble for disobeying
orders.
She pulled him to his feet and let
him look around. In the distance the
battle still raged on. Although badly wounded, a mega-Phantom successfully
managed to knock out one of the auto turrets by interfering with the electrical
lines. The gun disconnected from the
network and died. However it was not as
successful in it's second attempt as a huge laser severed another leg. The Phantom bellowed and crashed into the
surface. It began its retreat into the
ground.
Tatianov pulled on his good arm
and ushered him back towards the waiting aircraft. A bolt of pure blue light
shot by and struck the dirt not 50 feet from where they stood. The ground splashed up molten glass and
bubbled angrily.
"I take it we need to leave" Hein
said. Tatianov didn't even bother to
answer him and hurriedly pulled him into the aircraft. Once inside they began the preflight
sequence and brought the powerful turbines to full power. The GTC-88 screamed as it started to take
towards the sky.
A serpent spotted the aircraft and
began snaking its way toward them. The
onboard targeting computer alerted her there were Phantoms closing on her
position and that the lasers were being charged. Tatianov set the computer to seek and destroy mode and started to
roll the craft away from the battle scene.
Laser pods on the bottom and aft
sections of the craft opened to expose the high-powered weaponry within. The computer began a threat-assessment
program locating the most important targets that needed to be eliminated first. That's when the real slaughter began. Brilliant gold streaks of light sliced
through the sky aiming to inflict the maximum amount of punishment on their
targets. In a period of two-tenths of a
second, six phantoms were impaled upon thirty-two separate pillars of light. Each vanished without a trace.
Tatianov took the craft to a safe
altitude before radioing the base again.
***
Hein had passed out inside the
GTC-88. Somewhere between taking off
and arming the lasers, he dozed off. A
sharp thud awoke him. Blinking at the
bright lights that filled the cockpit, Hein started to rub his eyes. The flight-hatch popped open and blinding
sunlight bore down onto his ill-adjusted eyes.
Hein groaned and tried to bring up his arms to shield the against the
sun's assault; that's when he felt the stabbing pain in his left arm
again. Hein sucked in breath and
wheezed as pain jolted his frazzled nerves.
Tatianov
heard Hein's reaction and turned around in her seat. "We'll get you out. Just wait a few more seconds." Hein was not completely aware that he was
onboard an aircraft. Dreams were still
evaporating from his conscious thoughts.
"Where are
we?" he asked.
"Oregon,
Portland to be exact."
"What did
you just say?" Hein looked genuinely
puzzled. The last thing he remembered
was…getting onboard an aircraft. Realization
that the last few hours' events actually had been real was starting to
wash over him like a tidal wave.
"Ore—"
Tatianov began.
"Oh,
God…JAMIE! Oh…Oh no…no GOD no!" Hein started to weep…
Tatianov
wasn't exactly certain what to do with the battered, sobbing man in the
passenger seat. However since he needed
medical attention, an ambulance was already en route. Regular ground crews backed up by USMF Marine forces were already
pulling up nearby the aircraft to quarantine Portland's new visitors incase
they had been infected with the Virus.
A heavily armored truck also rolled up before slowly coming to a
complete stop.
The first
few solders got out of their cars and surrounded the cockpit area of the
aircraft. This was all standard
procedure of course, although everybody had been on edge since the news of the
San Francisco invasion broke the airwaves.
And all it took was one nervous, trigger-happy soldier and you got a
dead man with court martial coming your way.
Sergeant Willitis was going to make sure that nothing of the sort
happened while he was on watch.
Tatianov
stepped out of the craft onto the ground.
Her boots landed with a loud clack.
"Into The Box soldier." Willitis shouted. To put it simply, The Box was a holding cell: A place where you could keep an infected
person without endangering the lives of others. At least they liked to think of it that way. Tatianov did as she
was told and was escorted over to the entrance of the large truck.
Hein…well he was another matter
entirely. He had stopped crying once he
had heard the sergeant's deep voice, but his emotions were still boiling inside
his head. He unbuckled his harnesses
and stood up. Using his good arm, tried
to work his way out of the aircraft.
Hein's bad arm caught the blade of the belt buckle and he screamed.
Everybody on the ground turned to
see what was still inside. Tatianov's
quarantine process was suddenly sped up a few notches. She was hastily thrust inside her cell and
the door slammed behind her. Bioetheric
generators hummed to life as a sparkly blue shell began to encircle the cell
that contained her.
Hein clutched his arm and seethed
with anger. Without thinking, he threw
the bloody belt as much as his worn muscles could muster. Unfortunately for Hein, the belt was still
attached to the chair behind him and went taught in less than a tenth of a
second. It recoiled and sliced right
down the length of his wounded arm, tearing open the synthflesh and re-exposing
the wound to the open air. Hein
screamed harder this time and fell to the deck. All the Marines on the ground trained their guns on the
aircraft. Nobody moved nor made a
sound.
"HOLY JESUS" he gasped, fighting
back tears. Hein clutched his arm again
and began to wail for help.
"Nobody move!" Willitis ordered. "We don't know what's happening up there—he could be in the
advanced stages of infection." Hein's
unanswered pleas for help grew louder.
Another four minutes went by and
the paramedics arrived and began unloading their equipment from the
vehicle. One of the doctors walked up
to the sergeant and asked, "What's happening up there?"
"We don't
know—there's just somebody in the back that screamed twice."
Oh, God
please don't let it be what I think it is, Dr. Zhan's thought's
pleaded. "If someone up there is hurt,
we are obligated to help." He wished he
didn't have to tell himself that.
Several
uneventful minutes had started to calm Willitis' fears of infection, but the
doctor was right—they were obligated to help. "Alright, then we'll
investigate" he said. "You three, come
with me" he gestured to the men closest to him.
Willitis
and his team slowly crept towards the aircraft cockpit. Hein was curling himself into a fetal
position, squeezing his bleeding arm against his chest. It was beginning to feel cold. Blood soaked the remnants of his tattered
jacket. Large oily streaks sprayed
fan-like patterns on the floor.
Willitis
started to edge himself up into the plane and peeked into the passenger
cabin. There were bloodstains and droplets
all over the floor. He instinctively
sucked in a breath, his pulse jumped and his pupils dilated. He tracked the droplets of the blood and
found its source.
"We got a
man down up here!" Willitis pulled
himself aboard and ran to the aid of the bloodied man. Hein saw him and gurgled, but he was
starting to shiver. Human compassion to
help someone in need prompted Willitis to forget about his fear of someone
carrying the Virus and set down his gun.
He ran to Hein's side and began to search for anything that could
stop the bleeding. "Where are you guys?
MEDIC!" he shouted.
Zhan came
up and into the craft and made way to Hein.
He cleared moved Willitis out of the way and pulled out a sedative from
his medical kit. He shunted the
medicine directly into Hein's neck and then began to search for antibiotics
that needed to be applied to the arm.
He found what he was looking for and injected the greenish liquid
straight into Hein's veins.
He heard the doctor tell Willitis
that he was going to cauterize the wound using his laser scalpel. It would be ugly, so he said it was best to
look away. But the drugs that had been
administered to Hein were making him drowsy.
Darkness was starting to surround him for the second time that day. He welcomed the return of the night.
***
Hein awoke in a recovery room. His left arm was one big bandage that felt
sore all over. He had a slight
headache, but he thought he could deal with it. A nurse came in and noticed that he was awake.
"Hello Colonel, how are you
feeling?" She asked
"Tired and sore" was his reply.
"You missed breakfast, but we'll
be serving lunch soon. Today's special
is chicken and vegetables."
Freeze-dried chicken and frozen veggies…oh
boy, Hein thought to himself. "Sounds lovely."
"Alright, I'll bring you a serving
when the food is ready." Hein smiled.
He started to examine his
surroundings. The room was mostly white
with a solitary window on his left. The
sun was shining outside. He saw a few
bees fly by the window. There was another
bed across from him in the room, but the curtain was drawn so he couldn't tell
if anybody was actually in there or not.
The computer displays were still active, but that didn't mean
anything—the hospital always kept them running so that they didn't have to wait
for any machinery to initialize when they were needed the most.
He was hooked up to a life support
system; cords ran into his nostrils providing him with a fresh supply of
oxygen. There was an IV unit and a drip
bag leading into the vein on the top of his right hand. He groaned. Can't
have one good arm, now can I—this will make eating fun.
The door to his room opened up and
a USMF officer walked up to his bed.
"Sir!" he saluted.
"At ease…" Hein tried to read the
name off his jacket, but at the moment that was too difficult for his tired
eyes. The young officer's eyes flicked
about the room, taking in the scene. He
walked over to the other bed, pleased by the fact that it was empty, and then
came back to stand beside Hein's.
"You're orders" as he handed him a
data pad. When Hein grabbed it, the device activated. The USMF insignia displayed for half a second before relaying the
text message within. It read as follows:
152ZZ 523AS 88245 55234 4453675
TS SEP 22 2061
FM GENERAL
ASSEMBLY OFFICE OF DEFENCE HQ
DISPATCH
225-624-32G-87A
TO COLONEL
DOUGLAS HEIN
RECEIVE
883-174-55B-10F
BT
STAT
CLASSIFIED
MOP
9/61
SUBJ
ISSUANCE OF ORDERS
YOU ARE HEREBY REQUESTED
AND REQUIRED TO REPORT TO ZEUS CANNON UPON YOUR IMMEDIATE RELEASE OF THE
HOSPITAL. YOU ORDERS ARE TO SUPERVISE
CONDITIONS ON BOARD AND TO BRING THE CANNON TO FULLY OPERATIONAL STATUS. TIME IS OF THE UTMOST IMPORTANCE. GOOD LUCK.
ET
"Hmmm…"
Hein said to himself. He read the
message one more time, deactivated the pad and handed it back to the
officer. He stored the pad back in his
pocket.
"Colonel,"
he tipped his hat and made way for the exit.
When he closed the door, Hein stared out the window again.
Looks like the Assembly is finally
serious about putting an end to the Phantoms, he thought.
Outside the
leaves on the trees rustled as the wind blew though them. High in the sky out
of sight, Zeus circled above, solar panels glistening brightly as they
reflected the sun's light. The first of
eight fusion generators ignited the plasma inside its magnetic chamber. All of Zeus' systems came online for the
first time at normal power.
